


this too shall pass.

by CheshireCaine



Category: Gourmet Hound (Webcomic)
Genre: Crying, Deep Meaningful Conversation, Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, F/M, Fix-It, Friendship, Happy Ending, No Plot/Plotless, Unspecified References to Depression, don't really want to understate the emotion and upset to this fic; so be warned before reading, no betas we die happy men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-25 23:24:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18711802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheshireCaine/pseuds/CheshireCaine
Summary: set after episode 123; when Lucy and Graham are driving home from the apiary“It doesn’t have to be this bad. It can be. Better.”





	this too shall pass.

**Author's Note:**

> midnight writing ☽ or the author finds an occasion to write a DMC

“I can’t . . . I can’t tell you that it will magically improve. In the next five minutes, or day or week.”

Lucy looked out from behind her hands. She’d been using the backs to rub at her swollen, hurting eyes. Graham was looking through the windshield, up at the stars, bold and nearly blinding this far out from any city.

“It doesn’t work like that. I wish it would, but . . . When it gets so bad, over so. So long. It isn’t possible for it to fix itself in zero time. I think you can feel the positive effects a lot sooner in some ways, than the negative. But, one day, a few years down the line, it’ll hit you. That things are so much better now than that slow, that drag.”

Graham jabbed his glasses up with his fingers, tipping his head down to cross his hands and stare at the cracks in his palms so intently, it was like he could see through the flesh and blood vessels to his lap.

“Things’ll be better than this hell. That was hell. And now I’m out. And it’s better.” He pushed up his glasses again, and stared at the road ahead of the windshield.

“I’m in _hell_.” He wasn’t looking at his hands, but Lucy could see them clench in shaky fists. “This is hell. And I’m getting out. Nobody can do this for me. Nobody is gonna. ‘Cause . . . I won’t let them near to. And even if I did, I know it doesn’t work like that. I just need to push myself and remember there’s something better for me out of this hole. If I have a reason, I can climb these cliffs. No matter how sheer the drop. ‘Cause there’s nowhere below this. If you’re at the bottom,” he said, seeing the shine in Lucy’s eyes and the quivering of her lip as she held back the whimpers. “There’s nowhere to go but up.”

Graham paused, holding his hand to his mouth. It was— He disengaged the seatbelt and took a slow breath. He turned his body so she would know to listen, holding himself in place by flattening his hand between their seats. “If you’re willing to make the climb, and God knows you’re strong, Fuji, if you’re willing to make the climb, you’ll get out. If you remember a time when things were better, then you know life changes and that doesn’t mean you’re stuck in this place. If you believe there’s something worth it in trying to get out, you’ll make it there eventually. Friends are for a hand to help you grab the next hold, or to look at you and _know_ , you’re gonna get back up eventually.” He bit his lip. “You’ve gotta do it yourself. Not Joanna, not Walt. Not Ophelia or, or Alice. And not Brie or me. But, I _swear_. We’ll be there to hold you up as you go. You have to try, and you have to keep _wanting_ to try. And we can help.”

“I,” she hiccuped. “I don’t– I can’t.”

“You _can_. You’ll– We can only hold you upright, but we can’t make you make that first step. And the first step’s the scariest thing in the world. Until you see the length of that second step. And the third.” Graham wiped away the wet trails down his cheeks. They made his face feel sticky; his jaw ached.

“Is that what you did?”

“Yes.”

“Did it– Did it work?”

Something flashed in her eyes and Graham smiled, without a trace of the insincerity Lucy had been seeing from the person who brought her over in the first place.

“It still does.”

“Really?” She meant the question.

“It did and it still will. Not– not every moment. But it still is better moment-to-moment then it was.”

“It’s better.”

“Yeah.”

“It doesn’t have to be this bad. It can be. Better.” Lucy sniffled. “It will–” Her voice broke.

“You don’t have to say anything right now. I’m just glad you’re listening.” He opened out his hands. “I think I might have an idea what you mean.“ She was already hugging him, letting him lean across and hold her up, letting her hold him up too. “Just take your time. To think about it. You don’t need to say anything right now. I know it’s hard.” She was crying into his coat.

“Okay. I– Okay. I’m, thank you. I’m glad you”—she choked—“Thank you, and everyone. I . . . Thank you.”

“Anything. We’re friends, Fuji.”

**Author's Note:**

> a convo I've had with myself a few times, maybe had with a few friends and wish I could have with more friends
> 
> mid-writing I flicked through Internet tabs and an interesting coincidence was me seeing [this](https://twitter.com/matthaig1/status/1124786478347956224) tweet by a writing gent named Matt Haig.
> 
> _Stay alive for other people. The people you'll meet. The people you will become._
> 
> _You are more than a bad month. You are a future of multifarious possibility. You are another self at a point in future time, looking back in gratitude that this lost and former you held on._
> 
> _Stay._
> 
> Great sign from the universe.


End file.
